Friday, August 11, 2017

The true gift of poetry as an art form is its deft use of
air. Of space. Of pauses and gaps into which the reader can pour him- or
herself.

Blue takes these
strengths of poetry and puts them to maximum use. With its glossy pages, blue
and black ink, illustrations, and numerous typefaces, Blue looks like and reads with the speed of a children’s picture
book, but don’t mistake the design for simplicity—Blue invites and rewards multiple readings, each with its own
approach.

For instance, the first time I read the book, I took it in
as a single poem, telling only one story. The second time, I used a panel with
a quote by e.e. cummings as a dividing line between two acts—one that takes as
its central character love of a human and the second love of God.

The third time I focused on each passage as delineated by
its typeface. This third approach is like reading a book of Asian poetry or
koans. Each passage is its own rich moment, an invitation to meditate upon its
many meanings.

Although St. Jo and Grefalda are the co-authors (with St. Jo
contributing the abundant and engaging illustrations), there is no delineation
as to which passages were written by which poet. This adds to the overall
mystery and allure of Blue. In truth,
there are not just two voices, but many.

For the purpose of this review, I am going to say that the
book is divided into two stories, Man and God. But this is my own
interpretation—they are not labeled as such, nor does the e.e. cummings quote
absolutely guarantee a division. In Man, the authors engage the trope of the
world traveler, using Phileas Fogg and Passepartout in allusion, illustration,
and in the latter’s case, by name. They also play on “Eyes of Blue,” which
calls to mind the classic “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue.” The authors’ use of
“lose you to a song” in blue ink appears to reinforce this notion. The Man
seems to be off in search of something, which the author(s) hope(s) will either
bring him back, or that they will travel the world together “in Denim Blue.”

The e.e. cumming’s poem signals a switch to God: “I thank
you God for most this amazing day … and a blue dream of sky…”

There is a subtle shift in tone (though the blue is still
blue, as it were) in the section I call God. There are italicized passages that
sound biblical, looming large and philosophical. Passages like: “You are/ Beloved,/He said./Perfect/As you
are, He said.” While the author replies, “Sleep/Overtakes/Me,/I said./Rest/Frightens me,/I said.”

God does not give up, until the author says, after continued
resistance, “So as/You will it, God”

And in the final pages we come back to song (“damn you
song”) and I wondered as I read and meditated, is it the same song from the
start? But it is not: “i whistle out of tune/some nonsense i composed/with you
in my heart” [note the small i, only appearing on the final page].

Read Blue as you
choose. Perhaps the suggestions in this review will spark a path, but it’s best
to ponder its images, meditate on its typefaces, and choose your own way through
the blue.